For a long period of time, Master Gongsun the Elder’s position in the Gu household was quite awkward — the so-called role of “resident tutor.” This was because when the new Emperor had newly ascended the throne, there were surging undercurrents within and without the court. As one of the close officials who had accompanied the new Emperor to the capital, performing admirably was enough for people to merely give a dismissive look — but if one’s conduct was the slightest bit unbecoming, the court ministers could not help privately discussing things like “look at what sort of people the Emperor keeps as his trusted associates” (Lao Geng, that comrade-in-arms, had been caught in such crossfire countless times).

Gongsun Baishi had advised Gu Tingye not to go out immediately setting up a large retinue of advisors and followers. A mere small-ranking military officer making such a show of it would be far too conspicuous. And so, even though the Capital Defense Command had made it publicly known that the household “had not yet established instruction,” even though Gu Tingye himself was not particularly fond of scholarly pursuits, and even though Master Gongsun had never once laid eyes on Rong Jie’er — this host and guest pair had still brazenly announced to the outside world: this person before you (that is, I) is the resident tutor of the Gu household.

Afterward, with endless busy affairs and complications, no one had thought further on the matter. It was only after Tuan Ge’er’s birth that Gongsun Baishi’s title of resident tutor was at last properly settled — though it was a pity that from the moment the little chubby one could grab things, he had consistently shown far greater interest in yanking Master Gongsun’s beard than in gripping a writing brush. Even so — on Master Gongsun Baishi’s official calling card distributed to the outside world, the inscription still read: Resident Tutor to the Household of Marquis Gu.

Of course, such openly maintained fabrications could not fool the sharp and discerning eyes of the general public. When the day of Master Gongsun the Elder’s concubinage ceremony drew near, gifts piled up to fill an entire room — a coral tree over a foot high, resplendent and brilliant; luminous pearl earrings of dazzling beauty; bolt after bolt of precious and richly decorated silk and brocade. Master Gongsun the Elder accepted everything without turning anything away. As he teased Gu Tingye, he stroked his beard in self-deprecating amusement: “Truly — when one person ascends to the Way, even the chickens and dogs are carried up to heaven.”

On the day of the ceremony, Ruomei was dressed in a brand-new peach-blossom pink spring jacket, four dragon-and-phoenix gold bracelets on both wrists, and a slanted bun hairpin of gold with a sunburst wing cradling a dangling pearl. She was surrounded in her room by a crowd of matrons and wives who had come to celebrate, one saying “Eyebrow Yiniang has such fortune” and another saying “Eyebrow Yiniang, may you bear a precious child soon.” She could only manage a thin smile in return, her face pale. After Gongsun Baishi recovered from his illness, Gu Tingye had proposed formalizing the concubinage with proper rites. The old man did take a liking to the well-read and sensible Ruomei, but his nature was detached and eccentric, and he thoroughly disliked formal ceremonies. He had no desire to make much of the occasion. It was only because Minglan insisted that a few tables of guests were permitted, allowing the household staff to eat and drink together in celebration.

This being the case, Ruomei inevitably felt a little put out. Every new bride naturally has some expectations for her wedding, and she could not help complaining a little to her personal maid. Some fawning matrons, however, got wind of it and had their husbands outside go and purchase gifts from shops as congratulatory offerings. One thing led to another, and Gongsun Baishi’s concubinage matter thus leaked to the outside world, drawing a whole company of ardent “admirers” competing to send gifts.

The old man was thoroughly displeased. Had it not been for Minglan’s sake, he would have nearly called off the whole affair.

“I do not ask that you be particularly virtuous — but to think you cannot even guard your own tongue. Truly — a vine-wood is not fit to be a beam. With so little capacity to be entrusted with anything — if a child is born in the future, the rearing is better left entirely to my wife!” — Master Gongsun’s nature was how eccentric and willful it was; he did not mince a single word and censured her directly on the spot. Ruomei could not help crying bitterly for several nights, both remorseful and ashamed.

After learning of it, Minglan could only shake her head and sigh. There was nothing else to be done.

Gongsun Baishi as a person — put charitably: free and unrestrained, unconstrained by convention. Put uncharitably: self-centered and self-indulgent. In the modern world, such a man would certainly be a committed devotee of lifelong bachelorhood. But in ancient times there were the commands of parents — he had no choice but to go along and take a wife and have children. Toward his primary wife, he perhaps still harbored some measure of guilt and respect. As for Ruomei…

Subsequently, Gongsun Baishi assigned Ruomei to attend only to daily domestic needs. He no longer allowed her into the study. Word spread quickly. After Minglan learned of this, she gave only a soft, brief sound of acknowledgment and asked nothing further — which gave the household staff quite a start.

Earlier, everyone had seen Master Gongsun the Elder trusted so deeply by the Marquis, and with Ruomei now having flown to a higher branch, they had all rushed to pay her court and curry her favor. But now, seeing the Mistress’s this-warm-and-no-warmer attitude, they gradually began to distance themselves from Ruomei.

The warmth and coldness of human sentiment — this is always how it goes. Minglan gave a quiet sigh. She leaned against the kang table and read her book in silence. Beside her lay Tuan Ge’er, asleep like a small pig, his fat round little face pale and rosy, seemingly still covered in fine soft down. The room was quiet. Only on the low stool to one side sat Danju, who seemed somewhat distracted — she had made errors repeatedly, and the simple trim she was working on had already been unpicked twice.

“Put the needlework down.” Minglan suddenly said softly. “Your fingers are about to be poked through with holes.”

Danju lowered her head in embarrassment: “I’ll redo it later.”

Minglan glanced at her: “You went again this morning. What was it about this time?” Danju slowly set down her needlework frame, gave a hesitant look at Tuan Ge’er, and Minglan said: “Go ahead and speak. This little one won’t be waking up for a while.”

Danju said bashfully: “It was Ruomei’s small attendant who came to find me. She said Ruomei isn’t feeling well.”

“Oh? If she’s with child, that would be a fine thing.” Minglan didn’t look up and kept reading.

“No — she just had her monthly washing two days ago.” Danju’s voice grew even softer: “She only has a tightness in her chest. She says she wants to see the old sisters from before.”

Minglan said nothing more — only gave a faint smile. Danju saw that the smile carried a note of mockery, and couldn’t help saying in a low voice: “Ruomei isn’t having it easy either. She’s only been there a month and the Master is already paying her little attention. Even the matrons and maids in the courtyard are treating her with some disrespect…”

Before she could finish, Minglan cut her off: “Is this something Ruomei sent you here to say?” Minglan had left no small number of her own informants in Master Gongsun’s small courtyard — those maids and matrons had not truly slighted Ruomei; they had simply stopped fawning over her as they once had.

Danju quickly shook her head: “No, no — every time, she specifically tells them not to let me say anything to you.”

On hearing this, Minglan nearly burst out laughing, and quickly suppressed it, looking over at the little chubby one beside her. He was still lightly snoring, sprawled in a great-character shape, blissfully unaware, adorably endearing. She couldn’t help the corners of her mouth curling upward. Then she set her book down and slowly moved to the edge of the kang. She took Danju’s hand and, with a sigh, said softly: “You and I have been together for over ten years. I think I know every turn of your heart. Let me ask you one thing directly — tell me honestly: what do you yourself really think about all this?”

Danju looked at the eyes fixed on her, and couldn’t meet them. She turned her face away and said in a low voice: “She would call me over to have refreshments, have tea, look at spring plum blossoms, and would talk with me at length each time. Even though she kept telling me not to say anything to you — I understood what she meant. She was hoping you would go and put in a word on her behalf to the Master.”

Minglan nodded. This girl wasn’t truly naive: “So — should I go and say it on her behalf, or not?”

Danju was at a complete loss, chewing her lip for a long moment before lowering her head: “…I… I don’t know.” Thinking of Ruomei’s pallid and unwell appearance, she felt pity — yet she also did not want Minglan to be put in a difficult position.

Minglan looked at her for a while, then gave a long sigh: “I have found you a match.”

The topic turned so sharply that Danju was startled and flushed with shyness, completely struck dumb.

Minglan continued: “It’s your aunt’s husband’s nephew — the one you call your Elder Cousin.”

Danju’s entire family had originally been Sheng Lao’s dowry servants. Back when Danju’s aunt’s husband’s sister had married out, her mother had asked a favor and been allowed to marry into a prosperous household outside the estate. Over the decades since, the family’s fortunes had grown ever more substantial, and they had one son — four years older than Danju.

Minglan watched Danju’s face grow crimson and continued: “Nanny Fang says your elder cousin is a capable man — he can manage the farmland and estates, and he can oversee the shops. The family household is simple and uncomplicated. You’re also related, with the connection already known — it’s truly a good family.”

Danju’s face had turned so red even her neck had swollen thick with color. She choked for a long moment, then stood bolt upright and knelt down: “I don’t want to marry outside. I want to stay by the Lady’s side for the rest of my life!”

Minglan gave a faint, wry smile. Danju, unlike Qin Sang who had parents and brothers to depend on, unlike Luzhi who was bold and assertive, and even less like Xiaotao who played the fool and came up the winner — Danju, although meticulous and capable and competent in all affairs, had always had a soft heart. Cui Mama had searched outside for many candidate households, but no matter how she looked, she could not feel easy. Those who seemed honest — she worried they were weak and ineffectual. Those who seemed refined — she worried there was nothing inside. Those who seemed clever — she worried their minds were too crafty for a good match. And when the candidate himself seemed acceptable, the family often turned out to be tangled and troublesome.

After so much picking and weighing with no satisfying conclusion, every time Minglan imagined Danju one day living an unhappy and difficult life, she felt a heavy weight of responsibility.

“From the time we were all little girls — whenever you all played and scrambled for cakes and sweets, trinkets and accessories, you were the one who always gave way and smoothed things over. When you had grievances, you never told anyone — you swallowed them alone. That nature of yours…” Minglan sighed: “I had also originally thought of keeping you in the household to marry a steward, staying close nearby where I could keep an eye on things.” Back in those days when they were all trying to make their way under Wang Shi’s authority, whenever there was a difficult or demanding matron manager to deal with, it was always Danju who went to soften things with kind words.

Danju’s face turned purple, her eyes filled with unyielding resolve: “I don’t want to marry outside. I want to stay with the Lady.”

“Rare gems are easily found — a person of true heart is harder to come by.” Minglan said with quiet deliberation: “Your elder cousin has waited for you all these years, unwilling to take any other match. Even his parents could not persuade him otherwise. That itself is no small thing.”

At those words, Danju’s purple-almost-turning-black complexion slowly eased back to its normal color. Minglan watched, feeling quite amused.

“You like him too — don’t you?” Minglan said gently.

Danju’s face flooded with red. She stammered for a long time, and only after she could no longer withstand Minglan’s steady gaze did she murmur: “When I was little, at my aunt and uncle’s home… Elder Cousin came to visit… he was very kind to me…”

Minglan understood everything. The full details of this family’s background were clearer to Nanny Fang than anyone — honest and good people through and through. In an era where information traveled so slowly, to know the roots of a family so thoroughly was a precious and rare thing. In such a plain, kind-hearted household, it didn’t matter that Danju was on the quieter side. Minglan nodded: “I think it’s very good too. Let’s settle it, then.”

Danju was still kneeling on the ground, her face stunned. She clearly remembered that she had come to speak on Ruomei’s behalf — how had it turned into the settling of her own lifetime union? Lost and bewildered, she turned her head — and on the kang the little chubby one was still sleeping deliciously, his round little belly rising and falling.

“You have no parents now, so let your aunt and uncle send you off as bride in their stead.” Minglan slipped on her soft-soled shoes and walked about the room, murmuring to herself: “Presenting the name, offering the acceptance, sending the betrothal gifts… Nanny Fang says your future father-in-law recently lost his eldest brother, so a hasty wedding would be improper — we’ll have to wait a while. That’s fine — it will give your uncle time to have a full set of furniture made for you. The silver — I’ll put that out…”

“Lady…” Danju wept softly: “I don’t want to…”

Minglan tilted her head sideways: “What? You won’t listen to me anymore?”

Danju was crying and fell silent. Minglan said quietly: “I said long ago — as long as you are not false to me, I will not be false to you. This time, I want you to go through all six proper rites, dressed in the dragon-and-phoenix red, and be married out in style and dignity!”

“Lady!” Danju fell prostrate in tears: “I have had no parental affection since childhood. It was only after coming to be at Young Lady’s side that I knew what it meant to be treated with true sincerity. The grace the Young Lady has shown me — even in my next life, even tying straw and biting jade, I could not repay it…” By the end she was sobbing too hard to speak.

The little chubby one shifted a few times, smacking his little lips — seemingly not sleeping quite as soundly. Minglan walked to the edge of the kang and sat down, patting him gently: “All right. It’s only ever really been you all. After this — I doubt there will ever be others like this again.” The first feelings are always the truest and most beautiful. “Go and call the wet nurse in. Tuan Ge’er should be waking up — otherwise he’ll make a fuss again tonight.”

Danju quietly stood up, wiped the tears from her face, and was about to slowly step out when Minglan suddenly spoke again: “In the future, when Ruomei comes to find you again — you may pass on one message from me.” Danju paused: “…Lady, please instruct me.”

Her heart was pure and honest. Thinking of her own settled future and certain happiness ahead, she felt all the more that Ruomei was pitiable.

“Tell her — she and I were mistress and maid for a time after all. In the future, no matter whether it is the Master or Gongsun Furen — if there is any beating or cursing, or stinginess with food and clothing, I will speak up for her.” Ruomei had come from her own side; it was a matter of the Marquis household’s face — even kicking a dog, one should consider whose dog it is.

Danju couldn’t quite follow the reasoning and stumbled: “Beating? …Surely the Master wouldn’t…”

“You need only say it exactly like that.” The little chubby one was beginning to stir, narrowing his eyes and wriggling. Minglan didn’t explain further, and waved her hand to send Danju out.

Danju couldn’t make head or tail of it, her mind thoroughly muddled. She stepped outside in a daze, first told Xiao Cui Xiu to go call the wet nurse, then carried her needlework basket back to her own room — where she found Luzhi ironing diapers. Luzhi had even done the extra step of softening them afterward. Danju couldn’t help smiling: “You’re so thoughtful — doing this task yourself too.”

Luzhi put the flat-iron down firmly on the small iron stand beside her: “That bunch of little hooves — the moment there’s something good to eat or wear, their feet might as well have oil rubbed on them, they’re off so fast. But ask them to do a task, and every last one plays the fool!” The babies’ diapers had to be both dry and soft, and with all the rainfall lately, drying them properly was a challenge.

Still complaining nonstop, Luzhi looked up and saw Danju’s preoccupied face. Her eyes darted about and she said teasingly: “I saw you get called away again this morning — Ruomei gave you another earful of her grievances, didn’t she?” Before Danju could nod, Luzhi laughed again: “She’d better count her blessings while she can! In the future, her days are going to be even harder!”

Danju gave a slight start: “What do you mean by that?”

Luzhi added two pieces of charcoal to the flat-iron with her tongs, looking smug and pleased with herself: “Young Master Meng says his elder brother is getting married. He’s going to be away from the household for a few months to go back home and attend the wedding banquet. Heh heh.”

“So what does that have to do with…” Danju hadn’t finished laughing before Luzhi cut her off again: “Young Master Meng says once the new elder sister-in-law enters the household, his aunt will be relieved of her attending and managing duties. He also says — poor thing, his aunt has been working so hard for all these decades. If everything goes smoothly, Young Master Meng might very well bring her up to the capital this time!”

Danju’s heart gave a lurch: “Then Ruomei…”

Master Gongsun was a man after all — even if there was some friction between him and Ruomei, it wouldn’t affect her day-to-day life. But once Gongsun Furen arrived, it would be like having a direct superior drop in from above. Morning and evening attendance, serving tea and presenting water — that would be a whole different story. Danju couldn’t help but feel sorry for Ruomei.

Luzhi, however, was all cheerfulness, ironing the diapers with the fluid ease of clouds and flowing water, and as she ironed she sneered: “She still has the nerve to complain? Has the Master beaten her or scolded her? It’s no more than that he hasn’t been as tenderly attentive as in the operas — no drawing her eyebrows and composing poetry together. And she wants the Lady to go and put in a good word for her?! Ptui! Keep dreaming those grandiose dreams of hers! She went to be a concubine — not to be treated like an ancestor. And she expects to be so comfortable?”

Danju didn’t bother with her, just turned the matter over quietly in her own mind: Gu Tingye treated Master Gongsun with something close to the respect of a junior to a half-teacher. That made Gongsun Furen something like a half-teacher’s wife — and the thought of asking Minglan to go with a fawning face and plead on Ruomei’s behalf before Gongsun Baishi — that, Danju would never allow under any circumstances.

Luzhi grew more and more animated, lifted the flat-iron and pointed it at Danju, declaring in a loud voice: “Don’t go being a soft touch anymore! Stay away from her quarters from now on! Be careful you don’t bring trouble on yourself!”

Danju wrinkled her brow slightly: “When have I ever been a soft touch? It’s just — ten years of being sisters after all, all of you.”

Luzhi pressed and ironed vigorously, setting the whole ironing frame rocking, and kept up her stream of words: “In all these ten years, has she ever looked up to us? I know — she was born a young miss, and we were servant girls from lowly stock! Now she suddenly remembers sisterhood.”

Danju gave a quiet sigh. She turned and poured a cup of tea for Luzhi and took the flat-iron from her hands: “You rest a while. I’ll do it.”

Luzhi took the tea bowl and moved to the window, her expression completely at ease.

Danju worked away, and asked idly: “All these little details — where did you hear them?”

“I went and found out myself.” Luzhi lowered her head over her tea bowl and smiled, gratified: “Knowing she’s not having an easy time of it — now I can relax.”